Micromasters: Exposition
by Cyber
Summary: While investigating a rash of thefts, Jazz finds out about a "small" part of Cybertronian history.


Disclaimer: You know who owns the Transformers: Hasbro, etc, etc. I make no profit from writing this story, except creative relief. Countdown, Whisper, and Stormcloud are property of Hasbro. The others are originals of mine because I couldn't remember any other Micromaster names.

  
  


This is my personal explanation for the Micromasters, those tiny Transformers toys that usually came in sets of four or with a base. It could be classed as alternaverse, because I never once saw the Micromasters in any of the shows (G1). So far as I know, what I have written does not directly contradict what was done by Hasbro.

  
  
  
  


The Micromasters: Exposition

  
  


Earth, 2007 A.D.

  
  


Jazz streaked down the highway, music blaring. There was nothing like being back on Earth, he mused. Certainly it meant he had more space for ripping around and fewer people complaining about his taste for Earth culture. 

Unfortunately, he was going to have to turn off the radio and turn on his 'official-Autobot mode', because his objective was in sight. Winston Computing Production Facility, or WCPF, was just ahead. He mentally reviewed the case. WCPF had, for the last five months, been experiencing an odd rash of thefts. The small components that they produced were disappearing - but only the flawed ones, unsuitable for use. Microchips, wiring, LCD components, anything flawed and ready for the recycler was target for these thefts. It was suspected by the company heads to somehow be connected to the Decepticons, even though there were no signs of Decepticon activity in the area. Jazz had been assigned to go to WCPF and "check it out," as Blaster had phrased it.

"Well, we'll just see," he said to himself. "If the Decepticreeps are involved, I'll find them." Minutes later, he was browsing the facility, trying to listen attentively to the board member beside him. "Hey, slow down there," he interrupted the quick flow of words. "You're getting ahead of me here. If I can have a look around myself, I can find what's happening faster. Where do you store these retail rejects?"

The human looked put out. "Over there, in the room marked 'Recycle'," he replied. "You can go right in. We've made all of our areas accessible for most Autobots."

"Thanks, m'man. I'll go to it." And Jazz sauntered into the storage area.

It was definitely not as full as it should have been. There were rows and rows of shelves which should have been mostly full, but they showed signs of being pillaged on a regular basis, a few chips and circuits at a time. There were no fingerprints, so if a human was stealing for the 'Cons, he or she wore gloves and didn't touch the shelves at all, as there were no glove-prints either. Most 'Cons would be noticed, too, Jazz reflected, just from their size. Possibly one of the cassettes, but it didn't seem to suit the Decepticon style, this quiet pilfering of damaged parts. There had to be another explanation. Gaining permission from the company, Jazz staked out in the storage room, concealing himself in a corner.

Midnight. The room was dark, and Jazz was trying hard not to slip into recharge cycle. The thieves could return at any time, and he wanted to be ready for them.

Suddenly he heard a soft scraping noise. He glanced at the doors, but neither opened. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his optic. Turning his head carefully, he saw that it was coming from a small service shaft, high on one of the walls. At first, he thought his processor was playing tricks on him. Not even Laserbeak could fit through that small a hole. But what he saw next was even more amazing.

A tiny cable snaked down to one of the shelves. Then a correspondingly small figure slid quietly down the cable to land on the shelf and walked towards a collection of circuits. Picking one about the size of a dinner plate to it, the figure was starting to go back to the cable when Jazz decided that he had seen enough. He jumped up and keyed the lights. Instantly the room was flooded with light. The tiny figure dropped the circuit and made a break for the line up to the service shaft. But Jazz was too fast for him. A few steps and he was by the shelf and one sweep of his hand had the miniature thief in his hand. Only then did he look closer at what he had caught.

It was a tiny robot, probably about as high as the average male human's knee, he estimated. For him, that meant it was as long as Jazz's smallest finger. It looked rather scared and in some small amount of pain, which made Jazz realize that he was gripping it too tight. He rearranged his hand so his captive was sitting in his palm. "Now," he said, "what are you and what're you doing stealing stuff here?" And what am I doing? he wondered. I don't even know if this guy can talk.

But it could. Ceasing its efforts to escape, the robot appeared to be far more interested in catching a glimpse of Jazz's chest. What on Cybertron is it doing? He puzzled. The answer came soon enough.

"You're an Autobot!" the small robot exclaimed. "I haven't seen that symbol for over four million years!"

"Yeah, I'm an Autobot. But what difference does that make?" Jazz said.

"Well, a 'Con would probably decide to crush me after asking questions. I don't think you will. It isn't the Autobot way...or it wasn't when I knew them."

"How about you answer the original q, huh? Then we'll discuss Autobot style."

"What? Oh, yeah. Well, my name is Fritz. I'm what's known as a Micromaster...a Microbot, to be exact. But that's a long story that I don't think you remember. Most of the big ones don't. We steal things from here because everything they make is so small, we can handle it at this size. We need the materials for repairs and construction. But we always take stuff the humans can't use...and we return what we can't use, repaired at that. We're not evil. We're just trying to survive." Fritz explained.

Jazz was interested in spite of the fact that Fritz was, to some extent, a criminal. "Mind if I take you back to base with me? I can tell that there's more to this story, and the others should hear it."

"No problem. Just give me a sec." Fritz turned to the service shaft. "I'm okay, and he's an Autobot," he called. "I'm going back with him. I'll probably get back later."

"No problem, Fritz. I'll inform Countdown," a quiet voice replied.

"Who was that?" Jazz queried.

"Whisper, a friend of mine. We were sent on the supply run together this time because his usual partner is down. Leg's busted and we don't have the right parts for it. That's why I picked that circuit first." Fritz sighed. "Wish we had regular access. Our medical team is top form, but even they work better with proper parts."

Jazz realized that whatever friends Fritz had couldn't have an easy existence. Their power, parts, everything they needed for survival had to be appropriated, and if their operation here was any indication, they only got the less-than-best, the leftovers. He was suddenly determined to help somehow. "Let's go back to base, okay? We'll see what happens."

"Sure, aahhh...Jazz, isn't it?"

"How'd you know my name? I didn't tell you." Jazz was startled.

"Well, I remember it. I'll explain later though. Mind if I drive alongside instead of ride?" Fritz looked hopeful.

Jazz frowned. "You'd never keep up."

"Yes I will." They walked outside, and suddenly Fritz grew. "It's a Micromaster ability. We call it upsizing. It also made it easier to interact with normal Transformers in the old days." He paused. "More to explain later. Part of the same explanation, though. Lead the way, Jazz!"

They roared off down the highway.

"There it is, Fritz: Metroplex, the Autobot city." Jazz announced some time later.

"Your identification is unnecessary, though appreciated, Jazz," Fritz commented, "I have heard of Metroplex, even if I've never seen it."

Minutes later, they were inside. Walking down the corridors, Jazz gave Fritz a bit of background information. "Ol' Mets has been one of our bases for close to three years now. Of course, it was only two years ago that he gained the ability to transform. I've only seen it in vids, though...Blaster says he was some sight to see as a robot. Huge! And he changed just in time to beat off Trypticon. Sent him right into the ocean."

A voice spoke up behind them. "That's enough, Jazz. Report on your mission and state the identity of your companion. He isn't cleared to be here, after all."

The pair spun around, Jazz opening his mouth to respond. But Fritz beat him to it. "Optimus Prime! Sir!" he saluted crisply. Then, relaxing abruptly, he said, "I never thought I'd see you again, sir. It's been a while."

Optimus frowned. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"It's been a while, so maybe you've forgotten. My name is Fritz. I'm Countdown's second in command, last mission: to explore nearby planets, moons and asteroids for usable energy sources. You sent the entire remaining detachment of Micromasters under your command, the Microbots, but I'll warrant you never heard from them again. We crashed here over four million years ago and have been living here ever since." he explained.

Optimus nodded in recognition. "I remember now. Your presence was one of the most heavily guarded Autobot secrets. When it became apparent that more energy would be needed to win the war, I sent you to scout ahead. When I received no word from you, the entire crew was designated MIS, and we set out on our own mission for fuel. What happened?"

Fritz hesitated. "With due respect, sir, it's a long story, especially to those who don't understand Micros very well. If you could assemble the important personas, I think I could get the main story out with fewer problems."

"In one Earth hour, then." Optimus acknowledged. "Perhaps some of your colleagues could also make the trip in that time."

"Understood, sir. I'll see who's free."

  
  


Exactly one Earth hour later, a motley assembly could be found in one of the briefing rooms. Optimus Prime had called on Kup, Jazz, Rodimus, and Ultra Magnus to witness the extraordinary report; of them, only Kup could recall anything about the Micromasters.

"See, lad, they were called on to help repair their bigger friends and sabotage their bigger enemies, and I'm talking size by bigger," he explained to Rodimus. "I haven't heard anything on them for aeons, though - I thought they were all destroyed." The door slid open.

"In actual fact, we weren't - just sent on a mission that didn't go quite right." Fritz announced. "Optimus, Jazz, Kup, and you two must be Rodimus and Ultra Magnus...good morning to you all. Gentlemen, may I introduce Whisper, my early-morning companion," he indicated a black-and-purple robot whose wings indicated a flying transformation, "PreMed," this a green-and-white bot with hints of a ground vehicle transform, "and Psych." The last was purple and yellow trimmed with silver, sleek and smooth - a car transform, no doubt. "They'll be helping me with this long-overdue debriefing."

"As if we can fill anything in. What we know, you know when it comes to what's passed," the one introduced as PreMed stated.

"Here's a good place to start," Rodimus interrupted, "how about filling us in on what you're talking about."

"Fritz keeps the Micromaster memories. It's the duty of the second-in-command to whoever currently leads the Micromasters: right now, that's him. When a Micro dies, their knowledge goes into the memory chip inside of him, so he knows all of our history; we don't." explained Whisper. "We got the idea from the Autobot Matrix, and it's worked pretty well."

"Knowing our history and having ready access to it allows us to make decisions faster," Fritz added. Anticipating a question, he said, "The reason that the second has the chip instead of the leader is that it insures responsibilities are spread; it also puts less pressure on the leader. Countdown is wise and responsible without the chip, but he consults with me before making a major decision."

"Which means that he's more likely to get a solution that more than one person approves of," Psych chipped in. "From what I've seen, it's our second-best resource."

"What's the best?" Magnus inquired.

"Upsizing and downsizing," Psych said instantly. "But I'll let Fritz talk about that."

Fritz made a sound like a human clearing his throat. "I guess it's time for the history lesson. Well, originally, Micromasters were created to aid regular Transformers with maintenance. They were given the ability to shrink, get inside the Transformer in question, and fix problems with circuits and microchips. Most of them formed links with their hosts, living with them, fixing their problems, living off of small amounts of energon gleaned off of the power supply. A symbiotic relationship."

"Well, their function expanded soon after," he continued. "Micros were perfect for sabotage and espionage because of their small size. An advantage, certainly, for slipping into small spaces. But it also meant that if they were caught, they couldn't escape quickly enough" and here he shot a look at Jazz, "or fight back. Their -our- weapons didn't pack enough wallop. So we designed the ability to upsize. It makes us generally the size of small Transformers, somewhat bigger than humans - about Goldbug's or Cliffjumper's size. That also made interaction easier. As the war progressed, our involvement took more and more serious turns."

Whisper took up the narrative. "Originally, we worked only for the Autobots, and were one of their biggest secrets," he said softly. "Most of the Autobots didn't even know we existed! But some of the Micros eventually became unsatisfied with the Autobot code. They switched sides, and became the Microcons. And some elected to become neutral, picking what jobs came to them. The split was probably one of the worst things to happen to us."

Fritz picked up the line again. "Then, one day, Optimus Prime came to Countdown, the leader of the Micromasters and Microbots, and asked him to go on a mission. To go into space and search for alternate energy sources. We left, 'masters, 'bots, 'cons, and all - we were followed, you see - but we never returned. We encountered a magnetic storm which knocked the crews of all three ships offline and flung the ships far off course. We landed here, on Earth."

"And were adapted to look like vehicles, like us," Jazz put in.

"Actually, our original adaptations were animals. But we found that it was too dangerous. Some of us were actually eaten, destroyed by predators that we didn't know enough about. So, about 40 Earth years ago, we re-adapted to have vehicle forms. And have updated our forms at least once since then," Fritz corrected. "We survived by scrounging. Occasionally, the Microbots and Microcons get into major battles, but it's generally viewed as a waste of energy. Small 'scraps and traps' are the limit most of the time. Lately, the Microcons have been pretty quiet...no big theft attempts, no ambushes, nothing."

"I told you why," Psych put in impatiently. "There are too many 'masters now to risk it." He turned to the Autobots. "Recently, the 'cons lost four of their people, a team called the Racers. Since that was about a third of their remaining number after natural accidents, they have to recalibrate, pull themselves back together."

"How do you know that?" Kup asked suspiciously.

Psych sighed. "Because I'm one of them. My friends and I had had enough, and bugged out while we still could." He saw the distrust on Kup's face. "Gimme a break, here - I'm still young enough to make mistakes." 

"That's not the important point here," PreMed cut in. "Point is, do you want us back or not? I ask because it's known that the Microcons are definitely preparing to rejoin the Decepticons that are still on Earth."

"PreMed!" Fritz exclaimed. He scanned the Autobot faces. "He's right, though. Sir," he directed at Optimus, "that's the end of my report. Will you take back the Micromasters?"

"Gladly." Optimus said. Was it a figment of the imagination, or was there a glint of happiness and warmth in his optic? At the cheers from the jubilant Micros, he laughed. "Let it be official that the Micromasters have been accepted into the ranks of the Autobots!"

  
  


A FRESH START

A NEW ERA

AND A WHOLE AVENUE OF ADVENTURE OPENED!

  
  


WATCH FOR MORE STORIES OF THE MICROMASTERS.


End file.
